


Metal Crew

by MrProphet



Category: Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 18:16:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10702449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrProphet/pseuds/MrProphet
Summary: This chapter is a crossover with Buffy/Angel, just because.





	1. Jenny

The convoy was hit on the edge of no machine's land; six Terminators and an HK against four tired soldiers, a medic and thirty refugees. The half-track's cannon might have given them something to think about, but of course they took that out first, along with the chief and the sergeant, leaving me as ranking officer.

Yay.

“Everyone out!” I screamed. “Out of the wagons!”

We emptied one wagon okay, but the other took a hit from the HK's cannons with ten refugees still inside; poor bastards didn't stand a chance.

Mind you, that went for the rest of us too, with Metal coming out of the heaps like we had a magnet in the trucks.

“Miller! Price! Get 'em into that bay!” I ordered. The two soldiers tried to obey, but the refugees were panicking and it was like herding sheep with tigers.

Miller went down first, lit up by the HK. Price was luckier; he caught a plasma round and went down, but he was still breathing. I dragged him into cover and prayed for the refugees.

The HK worked its way forward, taking out cover so the Terminators could move in and mop up. It was one of the new 800 series that got to us first, however; they're faster than the 600s and – as I found out – tougher. That weak spot under the 'ear' on the 600s? Not there on the new model. A shotgun shell that would put a hole clean through a steel drum just glanced off.

I was sure I was going to die then. The T-800 raised its plasma rifle and there was a sharp, deadly sound, but its head bucked sideways and it fell, still grinning that awful, skeleton grin. I didn't know who'd taken it, but I wasn't about to question good fortune and I stuck out a foot to hook the plasma rifle towards me.

The HK collapsed in a shriek of tortured metal as a volley of cannon fire severed the superstructure from the tracked base. From my limited battlefield experience, the rounds were 20mm HEAP, which meant the shooter must be pretty damn good to hit the sweet spots in the HK's linkage.

A 600 series followed the 800 around the corner. I got off one shot, severing the right arm, before our rescuers hit the Metal with the front fender of a semi-armoured jeep. There followed a lot of gunfire from out of sight; mostly plasma rifles, but a few short bursts with the cannon on the jeep.

Since it looked like we might survive, I handed Price the rifle and looked to his wounds. It was a deep burn and he'd probably lose some use of the arm, if not the arm itself, but he wasn't about to die.

Of course, his chances got a lot worse when he blacked out, just as the last 600 series came around our cover. I was just starting to get my life flashing before my eyes when a figure leaped over the rocks and swung an axe at the Terminator, smashing one of its wrist supports so that it dropped its plasma rifle.

The Metal turned and swung at my rescuer, but she ducked its blow and swung her axe against its leg, bending one of the hydraulic rams. As it stumbled she hit it twice in the neck, half-severing the head. The Terminator flailed as my saviour calmly picked up its rifle and shot it down.

I stared, awestruck.

“Lieutenant Briggs?”

I shook my head. “Bought it in the half-track. I'm Kelsey; the medic.”

She nodded once. “Get your people together; we've got more Metal incoming.” As she turned to walk away she paused and kicked the arm I'd taken off the first 600. “Nice shot,” she said.

“I, uh... you were...”

She flashed me a grin over her shoulder. “Wasn't I?”

“And you are?”

“Jenny.”

And that was it. I was in love.


	2. La-La Land

Nate, at the wheel of the jeep, half-turned and called over his shoulder: “You may be interested to know that we’re now entering the fine city of Los Angeles.” He slammed the wheel over, skidding the jeep hard to the right. Where they would have been, had he kept to a straight course, a line of fire from the pursuing HK sliced a trench in the asphalt surface of the road.

Kelsey hunkered down in the back of the jeep and tried to brace his rifle, but he knew he was firing most of his shots far wide of the HK. Jenny, on the cannon, was doing a little better, but it seemed that the HKs got tougher every day. On the far side of the flatbed, the Corporal was bouncing up and down as much as the rest of them, but somehow managed to land each shot from his long-rifle on the body of the hovering pursuer.

“Oddly enough, Nate, I don’t really give a rat’s ass!” Kelsey hollered back.

“Damn, Kels!” Jenny called. “Now you’re making me hungry.”

“Jen; if we make it out of this one alive I’ll buy you all the rat-rump steaks you could want!” Kelsey promised. “Of course, as soon as our HK’s friends show up we’ll be dead.”

“That’s actually starting to sound appealing,” Jenny said.

“Ain’t anything shown up yet,” the Corporal pointed out.

The Corporal’s rifle fired with a sharp whine and the HK dipped, one of its anti-grav lifters disabled. As the HK slewed sideways, Jenny caught it amidships with the cannon and it crashed down in flames.

“Okay, Nate; pull to. Let’s see if we can salvage anything from the wreck.”

Nate slowed the jeep. “Sir…”

“Jen and Kelsey, keep a close watch while Nate and I pull off what we can,” he went on. “Come on, people; let’s do this.”

Nate pulled the jeep over to the side of the old freeway and nestled it discreetly in a small crater, no more than ten yards from the crash. He switched off the engine and jumped down. The Corporal exchanged weapons with Kelsey and followed.

“Give us twenty-five minutes and then get the engine running,” the Corporal said. “If you hear shooting, come get us.”

“Got it,” Kelsey agreed.

Nate and the Corporal headed for the HK, keeping low. Kelsey watched them go, while Jenny leaned on the cannon and kept watch in the other direction.

“Do you think they’ll be able to salvage the plasma cannon?” Jenny wondered.

“You have an unhealthy obsession with plasma cannons,” Kelsey sighed. “It’s one of the things I love about you. Speaking as a weapons’ expert, what do you think made these blast marks and craters?”

Jenny took a look. “Most of them look like plasma scoring, that wall looks like it was eaten away. Some kind of acid, perhaps,” she suggested. “Never seen the machines using corrosives, but…” She broke off. “When did the sun come up?” she wondered. “And the… moon?”

“I don’t…” Kelsey shook his head. “Does this place seem a little… weird?” 

“Yeah, I… Heads up, Kels! Movement; half a click past the HK.”

“I see it,” Kelsey agreed. He lifted his rifle and looked through the scope, ramping up the magnification until he could clearly make out a loping, slavering… beast. “What the hell?”

“What is it?”

“It appears to be a toad the size of an HK tank,” Kelsey admitted. “And it’s stalking Nate and the Corporal.” He flipped off the safety catch and drew a bead on the monster.

“Start the engine,” Jenny said. “That long-rifle won’t even scratch that thing.”

Kelsey nodded. He jumped into the driver’s seat and dropped the rifle into the footwell. He jabbed his thumb down on the starter and revved the engine.

“Swing us around and get me a clear shot!” Jenny insisted, arming the cannon.

Kelsey slewed the jeep to a halt next to the HK just as the toad-thing sprang at the Corporal. Jenny swung the muzzle of the cannon and shot the thing out of the air.

“What the hell is that?” the Corporal demanded as he and Nate sprinted back to us.

“Don’t know, sir, but it seems to be getting up,” Kelsey noted.

Jenny shot it again, but it just seemed to shake off the punishment. Nate and The Corporal jumped up into the jeep. “Punch it, Kels!” the Corporal barked.

The toad crouched to spring, but then a light stabbed down out of the sky and it froze. A moment later, a plasma stream scorched down from the sky and transformed the brute into a column of flame.

“HK!” Nate cried.

Kelsey slammed the jeep into reverse, barely avoiding another plasma stream, but the HK’s searchlight picked them out and tracked the jeep as it retreated. The plasma cannon swivelled in its mounting.

A dark shape sliced across the searchlight. There was a grinding shriek of tortured metal and the HK was gone.

“Go!” the Corporal ordered. “Go, go, go!”

As the jeep tore out of LA, the sky darkened again and the sun and moon disappeared from the sky.

“Was that… Did a dragon just eat that HK?” Nate asked.

“I don’t care,” the Corporal assured him. “Let’s just never go back there  _ever_  again.”

Kelsey nodded in agreement and pushed the gas pedal down a little further.

“And I still didn’t get my plasma cannon,” Jenny groused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a crossover with Buffy/Angel, just because.


	3. Scrap and Skin

Nate and I laboured up the pile of scrap metal to the fallen HK flyer. Jenny was working on the portside thruster, which meant that the Corporal must be on watch, perched atop the hull with his long rifle.

“Tell me you found it!” Jenny begged.

Nate slung his pack to the ground and lifted out the magneto in triumph. “Connectors and all; and we found a spare solenoid to replace the ropey one in number three coupling.”

“Finally,” Jenny sighed. “All yours, flyboy.” She dropped down from her perch on the wing and tapped her earpiece. “Corporal; we’ve got it. We should be good to go in…”

“One hour,” Nate assured her.

“…one hour,” Jenny finished.

“ _Good to know,_  the Corporal replied. “ _Scrappers are moving in fast; we may not have much longer. They might notice us leaving._ ”

I cut in my own communicator. “Got it covered, Corporal,” I promised, unslinging my own heavy burden. It was well over two metres long and weighed a great deal more than I did. My back was breaking.

“Is that…?”

“I would not lug this damned thing back for just anyone,” I assured her.

“ _I_  found it!” Nate called.

“And was all for leaving it there,” I noted. “Anyway; happy birthday.”

“It’s not my birthday,” she told me.

“November 9th?” I asked.

“It’s not…” I showed her my date track. “Well I never. Bless you, Kelsey.” She kissed me on the cheek and my back didn’t seem to be aching so badly.

“Only the best for my girl,” I assured her.

*

We finished the repairs just in time. The Machine scrapships were close, scooping up the hulks of their fallen comrades for cannibalising, reprocessing, reuse and recycling. The HK flyer was in good shape, but the Metal has high standards. Patched up the hull was weakened; stripped of parts and melted down, the alloys would make new, perfect machines to hunt and kill.

Anything organic that happened to get in the way would be… discarded.

Nate took the controls; the kid can fly anything with an engine and a few things without.

“Get up high and fast,” the Corporal ordered. “This thing is built to kill  _us_  on the ground; if they come at us from above there’s just me and a rifle. Kelsey; forward pod and conserve your ammo. We couldn’t splice into the counter, but there’s about half a drum.

“That’s three hundred rounds, give-or-take,” Jenny told me, squeezing my hand. “Maybe fifteen seconds of firing time. Mostly, you need to spot for me using the arclight; I’m tapped into the main reactor, so…”

“You’re drooling again,” Nate told her.

“Alright!” the Corporal snapped. 

“Any inspiring words?” I asked.

“Let’s go,” the Corporal suggested, “because I for one am sick of Mongolia.” I certainly felt inspired.

“Technically this would have been part of China,” Nate called as we scattered to our posts. I don’t know how he knows these things, given that he was barely out of the cradle when the Metal attacked and China – along with all the other nations of the world that was – became a historical footnote.

“It’s just a suggestion,” I said when the intercom came up, “but next time Command wants a scouting run into the Asian steppes, let’s not volunteer.”

The engines purred; Nate is a superb mechanic, on top of his many other skills. Smug bastard. The lift-off was smooth and swift, the scratch-built portside thruster perfectly matching the original.

“ _Weapons cleared,_ ” Jenny reported. “ _I’ll keep the plasma cannon cool for now, but standby on that arclight, Kelsey._ ”

“Ready.”

“ _Four people in a scavenged flyer,_ ” Nate mused, “ _about a zillion miles from anywhere, surrounded by Machines. Nothing but scrap and Skin against four million tonnes of Metal._ ”

The Corporal chuckled. “ _I don’t fancy their chances much._ ”

“Drone-flyer!” I warned, swinging the arclight to illuminate it.

“ _I’m getting what seems to be a handshake protocol,_ ” Nate told us.

“ _Weapon heat!_ ” Jenny snapped. “ _It’ll detect it if I power up the cannon. Kelsey…_ ”

I shifted the arclight ahead of the drone and pressed the firing stud. Tracer rounds burned through the air and the drone faltered. As it struggled to right itself, a blue-white shaft of light leaped out from the plasma cannon to transfix it. As the after-image cleared from my eyes, I saw the pieces of the drone fall, burning, to the earth.

“ _I love this thing!_ ” Jenny laughed. “ _Thank you, Kelsey; best present ever! More incoming! Light them up for me._ ”

“You got it!”

“ _Really don’t fancy their chances,_ ” the Corporal chuckled.


	4. The Night Before Christmas

“'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house; not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.”

I smiled grimly at Nate. “Since the reason for that is in order that the HKs don't hear and kill them, it might not be the best moment for poetry,” I noted in a whisper.

“No HKs nearby,” he assured me. “I’d hear the engines.”

“And what about Terminators?” I asked.

“Hard to say,” he admitted and I scowled at him.

There was a whistle from above and a soft creak on the stairs. Despite the whistled code we stayed wary, weapons at the ready, until Jenny and the Corporal were in the room. We’d heard that the Metal could make copies of people, but not if they’d only been gone for a few hours.

“Flyer’s covered,” the Corporal announced. “Any trouble in the Alley?”

I turned to look out over the Alley, a former freeway, cleared of debris and wreckage for use as a transport corridor. The Metal made the Alleys and Metal used them, but so did we, and that meant keeping careful watch to make sure nothing was coming the other way.

“Not a whisper,” I reported.

Jenny came across and snuggled against me. There was a bulge under her coat. “Merry Christmas,” she said and she produced a bundle of feathers from under her coat. “Couldn’t get a roast beast,” she said, “but we can have turkey.”

“That’s a vulture,” I pointed out, “but I’ll set up a screen and see what I can do with it.”

A thermal screen is essential for cooking in Metal country, to hide from infra-red scans. We were safe from above because of the camouflaged flyer on the roof and a brick building gives you some shielding, but I set up screens around my fire pit just in case. We took turns, watching for the Metal and watching the fire, and I dug out some of my precious collection of spices to season it.

In a ruined building, on the edge of the Alley, we ate a Christmas dinner of roast vulture and tinned vegetables. It felt good; almost like old times until the Metal showed up. It was a full convoy; three supply trucks, a meat wagon full of human prisoners, two HK tanks and an ogre. That was more than we’d been expecting.

“Nate, Jenny; get our bird ready to fly,” the Corporal ordered. “Kelsey; alert position bravo. Tell them the Metal passed alpha at oh-oh-twenty-one and give them numbers. 

“And guys,” he added. “Merry Christmas.”


End file.
